Whoever designed the hotel did an amazing job because it feels like any place in the South of France. Luxurious, with a lobby to the water and a bar at the back. The pool is off to the side via a winding path set into the manicured lawn.
Not many things grow in the soil of Saint Pierre, but they’ve managed to find flowers to bloom in containers set along the path.
I find the men by the pool when I arrive to pick up Asani, all in various degrees of undress. Some are in the water, some lounging around it. Someone has created a mock gym near the deep end, and a number of the men are flexing with weights.
I’m sure this scene will take up many minutes in the episode because there’s so much to look at.
And I’m looking.
I didn’t see the men yesterday, and even though first impressions have faded and most of their faces have blurred, I can guarantee I won’t have the same problem with their bodies.
These boys have been hitting the gym.
Asani stands off to the side, patiently waiting, as I greet the others, wearing off-white linen pants and a patterned shirt that would be perfect for a Caribbean vacation.
I wear cut-offs and a tank top with a loose white shirt. Alexa still took her time to make sure I’m “camera ready”.
I told her I was born camera ready.
Asani’s smile is warm and he smells amazing, a mix of cloves and citrus, and I breathe deeply as I give him a hug hello, conscious of the gazes of twenty-one other men.
It’s not an unpleasant sensation, knowing these men are here just for me.
I give them a bright smile as I take off with Asani, excitement at war with apprehension and making my stomach tingle and tighten.
Here we go. Lyra’s journey to love starts now.
Good luck, my darling girl.
Most of the men I’ve been involved with—whether they are men I’ve picked because of interest or friends or acquaintances I’ve asked to take me to events or premieres or social gatherings where I need to be seen—know the rules of dating Princess Lyra.
There must be fashionable attire since many pictures will be taken. There will be alcohol served, and drinking will be monitored so no drunken situations will occur. Conversation will be limited to small talk and pleasant discussions so there will never be a question of having a picture taken with an embarrassing expression.
Why did Princess Lyra look sad with so-and-so? Did he break her heart? Is she carrying his baby? She looks drawn and tired and has lost weight? Is she taking Ozempic? Is she gaining weight?
I long ago stopped reading the comments that inevitably follow whenever a picture of me with a man shows up online.
There will be more than pictures of my date with Asani. There will be video so people can rewatch it as many times as they want to dissect every word and expression.
Or maybe not, Maybe I’m putting too much importance on myself.
But I don’t think so.
I come from a famous family; not only that, but it’s a family that is liked and admired and followed by millions. My brothers seem to grasp the importance of this. Or maybe they have been able to separate themselves from being part of the Laandian royal family.
I never have, which is why there are rules and no reading of comments
But this is not a normal date, so I’m not exactly sure how to proceed. Or what to expect.
There are no paparazzi in sight as I drive us to the tiny airport, just the cameraman. I think his name is Johnny.
I should really find out.
“Where are you whisking me away to?” Asani asks, linking hands with me as we cross the tarmac to the tiny prop plane.
“We’re going to look at birds,” I tell him cheerfully.
As we board the plane, I explain to Asani that the nation of Saint Pierre is an archipelago, made up of islands. The bird sanctuary—which Camille herself started—is on the mostly uninhabited Miquelon.
